Almost Punk Enough
by Saint H
Summary: Jinx is having some existential problems.


"...but you don't think it takes away from my _ethos_ do you?" Her raspy voice raised over the sound of machinery and upbeat jazz.

"Your what now?" Cyborg said in a flat, reactionary tone.

She frowned down at him and ran a frustrated hand thru pink hair, "My _ethos!_ Y'know, my cred!"

"And what 'cred' would that be, exactly?" Cyborg's tone was sarcastic. Sparks flew from underneath the T-Car as his blowtorch-finger connected with some nameless hunk of metal.

Jinx merely growled and jumped down from the tool bench that was previously her perch, "Ugh, street cred! Sure, I'm a Titan, and sure, I betrayed the HIVE, but I've still got an image to maintain! I'm Jinx for Chrissakes! The Big Bad Wicked Hex-Witch of the West!"

The mechanical teen grunted as he lifted a part into place in the undercarriage, "Well, the way I see it, you're a Titan now, and that's a big part of your image. Whenever you're part of a famous team like that it invades your life and changes how people see you. That's not to say we don't have room to be ourselves, though. I mean, sure, everyone knows me from BB, Starfire from Raven, Robin from Larry."

A pink brow raised, "Who?"

"Nevermind."

Jinx shook her head, irritated, "The point I'm trying to make is that my switch might make the rest of me seem… fake. Phony, a poser."

"What, because you betrayed your friends for some ADHD ginger in yellow spandex?"

"No! If anything that might be my saving grace. I'm afraid being a good guy will make me lose my…. Punk."

"… Your what now?"

"UGH!" Jinx threw her hands in the air and marched out of the garage, platform shoes stomping all the way.

---

"…and so I'm worried that me being a Titan will make it impossible for me to fit back into the scene I used to love! I mean, what if I'm on the floor and some cute, tattooed hipster bumps into me, flips the curtain of dyed black hair from one eye to the other, and starts flirting with me? And so he and I are about to start making out and stripping off clothes, but hold on! You're that Titan girl! Wow, what a fuckin' poser! Or what's worse, what if someone like, I dunno, The Loved Ones were on stage, and I'm up front staring at Dave Hause's bulge when all of a sudden he looks down and sees me! The music stops right in the middle of Pretty Good Year and he calls me out in front of everybody!! OH GAWD I'D NEVER BE ABLE TO GO TO A SHOW AGAIN!!"

Jinx threw her head into her hands and rocked back and forth for a second. After a moment she looked up, "Do you think they'd hate me?"

Raven's face was painted murder. The vein throbbing in her forehead had a twin in her left hand, that was currently holding a book. The cover's title said something about some sort of cookbook, Recipes for Disaster.

Jinx, having completely disregarded Raven for her entire rant, now gulped back a lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. When she spoke, she sputtered, "Hehe-he, I'll be going now."

---

"I mean, I'm still Punk, right? Yeah, Punk as Shit! Who the hell cares what Dave Hause and his huge bulge thinks about me? So what if Brian Fallon hypothetically thinks I'm a hypocritical bitch! I'm Jinx! I'm so punk Matt Skiba would shit himself if he saw me! I'm so punk Tom Gabel could write a song about me! I'm so Punk that GARY OLDMAN says I'm Punk!"

Beast Boy's features jumped as he just noticed Jinx was next to him. When he spoke, it was with unnecessary volume, "Sorry Jinx! What Were You Saying?!" He reached into his pointy ear and plucked out a small black headphone. A British voiced blasted out:

"_IT'SA ZYKLON B MOO-VIE! STRAIGHT OUTTA THA PAAAAASST!"_

"UGH!" Jinx threw her hands in the air and marched out of the room, platform-stompers a-go-go.

---

Jinx was pleading, "You think I'm punk, r-right?"

Jericho just shrugged.

Jinx growled, "Don't just shrug at me you little whelp. Do you think I'm poser?"

Jericho just shrugged.

"Listen brat, if you don't say something I'm gonna plant a tentacle monster in your bed tonight, don't think I can't!

Jericho snorted. He grabbed his guitar and started playing a Jack Johnson song.

Jinx made a face like she'd eaten bad eggs, "Blah! Stop that!"

The chords changed to the Dave Matthews Band.

"OH GAWD!" Jinx was a pink blur out the door.

---

Jinx was practically sobbing, having recounted her whole tale of existential woe up to this point, "A-and so, I've got no one else left to talk to and I… sniff… I think you might be the only person that can help me. So please, give it to me straight. Am I still punk?"

Argent took a long drag off her clove before blowing out the black-licorice smoke, "'Ell no yer not punk. Yer a soddin' Titan, aren't ya?"

Jinx merely floundered for a moment, apparently too stunned to do anything. After a few seconds of her mouth silently opening and closing she managed to say, "B-But, you're a Titan too!" Her tone was acid.

Argent just shrugged her silver-skinned shoulders. Her Lolita outfit shifted oddly at the movement, pushing her breasts together and contorting the circle-A carved underneath her clavicle, "Yea', and it's kinda depressin', in a way. But'cha don' need to worry 'bout it."

Jinx's face was taught with confusion, "Bzuh?"

Argent's black lips smirked, "All the counterculture are posers nowadays. There're no real Punks anymore, we're all too lazy. Personal agency 'as been replaced by complacent consumerism and true anarchist ideals 'ave been painted over wit' badly thought out communism." She paused to drag on her clove, "I mean, wit' Obama as president of the States you'd 'ave to be Republican to be anti-authoritarian now, wouldn't you? And that's just it, the counterculture today innit about _bein' something_. It's about _not bein' something_, and that's why we're all posers, so you don't really need to worry about it."

Jinx just blinked her pink cat-eyes for a few moments, "Huh… y'know, I feel like I should be depressed, but... I'm actually pretty relieved."

Argent smirked, "Yea, pluggin' outta the mainstream is the same as pluggin' into the mainstream, just a little more self-aware."

Jinx smiled across the Tower's roof to the setting sun.

Argent took the last hit off her black cigarette and stomped the butt under her boot, "Leftöver Crack is comin' to town next Friday. You wanna go seem 'em?"

Jinx turned to the other Titan, face alight with mischievous excitement, "Of course! Stza's bulge is almost as big as Dave Hause's!"

Argent smirked wickedly, "Almost? Stza's is bigger last time I checked. Which was last night on the web, by the way. Punknews."

"Ah, I was surfing pitchfork last night instead."

Argent's nosed scrunched up like it would she'd stepped in dog mess, "Pitchfork? What, were you tryin'ta get yer Beck on, or something?"

Jinx shrugged, "I've been in a very emotional state lately, not really sure what I've been doing or why."

Argent nodded, "Yea, I can see that. " She smiled.

Jinx smiled back.

And the sun rose.

…

…

…

"Wait just'a minnit. All this talk of Dave Hause's bulge, aren't you supposed'ta be with that Kid Flash?"

"Oh…" Jinx's back straightened, her cat-eyes darted back and forth, "Funny story about that. Turns out he's gay."

Argent's brow raised, "For real?"

"Yep. Total cock-munching queermotron. Faggity Fag McFlex Delux. I wondered for a long time why he kept spending the night at Aqualad's."

"Huh… but, why was 'e interested in you then?"

"He liked my hair-do."

"Oh…"

"Yep."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Hehehehe-"

"HaHaHa!"

"HEHAHAHA….. shit!"


End file.
